


Love, Lust and Eros

by Lauriana25



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Canon Compliant, Casual Sex, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Drinking, Drunk Victor Nikiforov, Humor, Incubus!Yuuri (kind of), Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Multiple Orgasms, Pining, Sex Magic, Smut, Swearing, Viktor's inspiration for a certain program!, brief past ChrisVik, post-Sochi, suspend disbelief for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 05:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauriana25/pseuds/Lauriana25
Summary: The human winter season is usually a gold mine for the underworld, countless lonely souls missing their loved ones. On a cold and lonely night, Viktor is visited by someone who might help ease his heartache… even just for one night.





	Love, Lust and Eros

“Why didn’t h-he callllll?”

Chris huffed dramatically for the twentieth time that evening, snatching the fresh bottle of vodka from Viktor’s hand as he swung his long arms above his head, slumping on the couch in an unseemly, sozzled state. ‘So much for Russians being able to handle their liquor.’ the Swiss man scoffed as he took a swig with a hissed breath.

“For God’s sake, Viktor! Are we going to just sit here all night?” Chris groaned, glancing at his watch. He had shown up at Viktor’s apartment three hours ago, dressed to the nines and with every intention of dragging the silver-haired recluse into the nearest nightclub and refusing to leave until they had both found… suitable entertainment for the night. And, for once, Viktor had appeared to agree with him as they knocked back shots of expensive vodka, the Russian almost seeming like himself again as he got changed into a figure-hugging silk shirt and slacks that looked painted on. 

If only Viktor hadn’t checked his phone before they left. Or rather, as they were about to leave. Three hours, several bottles of various alcohol (Chris gave up keeping track after the whiskey) and lord knows how many views of just one video and several photos later, Chris was ready to throw his friend’s phone out of the window into the snowy night.

Viktor peeked out from under his arm, sighing heavily with a wobbly lower lip. “You don’t understand…”

“You’re right - I don’t!” Chris snapped, his olive-green eyes flashing under the overhead lamp, his glossed lips pouting. “I don’t understand why you’re still so hung up about this guy! It’s not like he was the best shag you ever had - you didn’t even get to first base with him. Even with him practically dry-humping your leg in front of everyone, you didn’t do anything! Hell, I went further with him than you did that night!”

“I was being a gentleman!” Viktor pouted, tucking his eyes back under the crook of his elbow, reaching blindly for the bottle again.

Chris snorted. “Fat load of good it’s done you! Look, sweetie, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s just not that into you. He didn’t call after the banquet, or when he got home to wherever he’s from, and he’s clearly getting on with his life if that video is anything to go by. It’s time you did too.”

Viktor sat up quickly, which might not have been the wisest decision, judging by how quickly the room began to spin. “But he said-”

“I’m begging you, _please don’t say it again!_ ” Chris whined, rubbing his hand over his eyes and reaching for his phone. “I can’t take it anymore! Viktor, I love you. But you are such a hot mess it’s like talking to a puddle of lava.”

“Some friend you are!” Viktor pouted, reaching for his phone again from the coffee table.

“Your best friend, darling, and don’t you forget it!” Chris smirked, standing up with wobbly legs. Maybe even he had had enough to drink. Viktor was about to rebuke him when someone knocked on his door.

“That’s my ride.” Chris explained to the wide-eyed, confused Russian. “I texted Masumi.”

“Isn’t he-”

“Yes, yes,” Chris waved his hand impatiently. “I planned a night of drunken, meaningless sex. If I’m not going to have my wingman, I might as well have my back-up booty call. Viktor,” he patted his friend’s shoulder to get his attention, his cerulean eyes glued to his phone screen again, “I’m serious. It’s time to wake up.”

Viktor hummed, clearly too engrossed in the video (and the half-empty bottle of glittery gin - a Christmas gift - that he clung to like a teddy bear) to hear his friend pad over to the door, fling it open with a dramatic slur of his “friend”’s name and what sounded like a very loud, very wet kiss before shouting _“goodniiight Viktooor!”_ It was only when the video finished again and he looked up to say something that he realised he was alone. 

“Could have said goodnight…” he slurred to himself, picking himself and the bottle off the couch and trudging to his bedroom. ‘If I’m gonna be alone, m-might as well get comfy.’ he thought miserably as he flung his shirt and pants on the carpet and collapsed on his bed. Gulping at the gin again, he fumbled with his phone in the dark and hit ‘replay’, a smudged fingerprint on his screen from repeating the action so many times.

_“Yuuri…”_

The name had been haunting him, following him at every turn. It had been since the Grand Prix Final in Sochi. And so had the memories of whirling like tops around the floor at the banquet, of a half-naked Japanese man giggling and flinging him around as if he weighed nothing at all. And of course… there were the photos of said half-naked Japanese man, his delicious body wrapped around a pole, brown eyes flashing with something hungry, something dark, something that made Viktor a little tight in the trousers. 

And now… now there was a video. Not from Sochi, but seemingly recorded at a Japanese rink, of the same Yuuri skating his program. _His_ Stammi Vicino program. The cold, lonely program meant to be skated by two. Surely Yuuri had to know what he was doing to Viktor. That he was taunting him. _‘Look at me. We danced and you gave me your number, I didn’t call you and now watch me skate your program, Viktor.’_

Okay, maybe that wasn’t what he was saying. Maybe Yuuri really hadn’t intended for the video to go public. Maybe he had just been skating with such perfect attention to detail as to include mirrored facial expressions, even the tiny flair of a flicked wrist as he landed the flying sit spin, one arm extended gracefully above his head. But why, if Yuuri had so soulfully, so flawlessly recreated his skate, with the emotional depth that Viktor just couldn’t seem to capture, had he done so poorly at the Final? That haunted him too. But what truly haunted him the most was those amber eyes, blazing with passion as they met Viktor’s that night, the passion that Viktor never saw again. He had completely, utterly fallen in love with Yuuri as they spun dizzy circles around the dance floor, laughing giddily as the Japanese skater drunkenly scribbled Viktor's phone number on his hand, having lost his phone at some point during the night. 

But Yuuri didn’t call after the hangover passed.

 _“Yuuri…”_ Viktor whispered in the darkness of his bedroom, the phone in his hand looping the video of Yuuri skating, the bawdy glittering bottle of gin grasped in the other. A tear pricked at the corner of his eye as he watched Yuuri take his last position, his body so beautifully poised in the center of the ice. A wet, shaky sigh escaped his lips as the screen went black. He didn't restart the video. He had certainly had enough of the heartache for one night. His eyelids grew heavy as he knocked back the last of the glittery liquor. He was at least clear of mind enough to plug in his phone before it all went dark and sleep took him, quick and painless.

_A single spotlight filtered through the shimmering dark, catching floating specs of dust as they danced through the air. The pale circle of light illuminated the ice like the moon over calm water, empty and cold as Viktor noticed he was the only person in the room. Distant sounds of the air conditioning roared as he rubbed warmth into his fingers, having forgotten his gloves, for some reason._

_‘Is this another panic dream about being late for practice?’ Viktor thought to himself, finding it odd that he knew it was a dream at all. He shrugged it off as something to do with the alcohol he had guzzled unquestioningly, despite his friend's penchant for sending him strange and foreign liquors. He moved to unclick his guards and step onto the ice, finding that he wasn't wearing skates, but leather dress shoes. And slacks instead of sweatpants. Definitely not a practice dream. A heavy, caramel-colored trench coat wrapped warmly around his shoulders as he leaned over the barrier, squinting into the darkness as the gentle gliding sound of metal against ice drew his attention._

_A flash of silver in the cold spotlight sent sprays of multicolored light across the ice, the flutter of fabric echoed in his ears as black and red dipped in and out of the light, never long enough to steal a full glance. The light tinged crimson red as a long leg wrapped in black satin stepped into view, a silver toepick stuck into the ice. One creamy hand crossed by fine black mesh traced the plush curve of that thigh and Viktor’s mouth went dry._

_“Viiiiiiiktor…”_

_A familiar voice crooned his name, beckoning him like a siren with velvet lips and a hypnotizing voice smooth as silk in his ears. That hand crooked a finger in the red spotlight, pulling Viktor from solid ground to center of the spotlight, his feet gliding over the ice without touching it. There, half basked in crimson light, half shrouded in inky darkness, was Yuuri, wrapped in skin-tight black spandex, a splash of crystals at his shoulder and hip glittering in the shadows. Viktor recognized the details of a costume he himself had worn years ago._

_“Just going to stand there, Viiiktor?” Yuuri whispered as he circled Viktor slowly, staying just out of the light, only offering tiny glances of his lithe form as it moved around him like a stalking predator; the gentle scrape of his skates raised the fine hairs at the back of his neck and the spotlight cut, plunging the ice into darkness._

_Viktor felt himself slipping backward, his lower back pressed roughly against what felt like the plastic of the barrier, he grasped the top edge of it as he felt his feet sliding out from under him. His eyes fought to adjust to the blackness as clacking blades drew closer and pushed farther away, and his heart thumped at the thought that it was Yuuri. Yuuri, clad in that costume. His breaths came faster, blood rushing south as the sound of swishing fabric and skates came closer and whirled away again._

_“Stay right there, Viktor… and watch me.” Yuuri’s voice floated into his ear as the rink was again, bathed in red light, swirling and shifting like sunlight through water, rippling and waving over the flying silhouette of Yuuri, his curves swathed in ebony and mesh. Viktor could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he watched Yuuri sail through the single most erotic skate he had ever seen. It looked like a completed version of the half-finished short program he had been choreographing for himself… the step sequence was the same, and so were the spins, but… Yuuri…_

_Yuuri brought it to life. Along with something else._

_Viktor gripped the cold plastic harder as his cock began to swell in his trousers, the tight cut of them restraining his length in an unfairly painful way. He bit the inside of his cheek as Yuuri soared through a spread eagle and into a triple axel, the click of his blades musical in and of itself as he landed the jump flawlessly. Viktor didn’t bite back the moan when Yuuri launched into and moved through a quadruple salchow with unrivaled ease, even by Viktor himself. The rest of the program passed by in a blur of Viktor’s panting breath and the insistent swell of his cock tenting his pants._

_Viktor blinked and Yuuri had pinned him against the barrier with his hips, the line of his own erection obvious in the thin material of his costume. Yuuri ground against him, drawing a hissing breath from Viktor at the friction against his trapped cock._

_“Heh... now I know I’m dreaming!” he heard himself chuckle, the sound catching in his throat as a long moan spilled from his lips as Yuuri rolled his hips, the thickness of his erection grazing along Viktor’s in such a tantalising way it made the Russian want to beg, plead - hell, he was close to **demanding** more from the man in front of him. “The last time I tried t-to skate with a hard-on was that time where Stéphane Lambiel-”_

_A long, cool finger pressed to his lips, silencing him instantly, the fire in those amber eyes commanding him to stop babbling. ‘Just enjoy this,’ they told him, ‘Lose yourself in the moment’. Who was he to disobey?_

_“Does that feel nice, Viktor? Do you like this?” Yuuri murmured as slender hands trailed down Viktor’s torso and dipped into the billowing warmth of his coat, quick fingers finding the buckle of his belt. Viktor nodded dumbly, the vision in black capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss as the abrasive sound of a zipper reached his ears. He yelped when frigid air stung the sensitive flesh of his cock, wincing at the chilled touch of Yuuri’s flesh, still cold from the ice. “Oh, too cold? Maybe… something warmer?” Yuuri smirked devilishly as he dropped to his knees and eagerly pulled Viktor into his mouth._

_“Yuuuuuuri, d-der’mo, yes, just like that…” Viktor moaned as the velvety heat of that mouth wrapped around him, those full lips stretched around the girth of his cock so sinfully in the red-tinged darkness. Viktor carded shaky hands through Yuuri’s hair, pressing long fingers at the back of his head, encouraging him to continue, stopping just short of begging for it like a debauched animal. Yuuri’s tongue swirled around him with such devastatingly accurate swipes that Viktor thought he might melt after just a few moments of it. Yuuri grasped the base of his cock and stroked gently, Viktor groaning deep in his chest when he saw what Yuuri's other hand was doing: palming himself, rutting into his own touch and soaking the silky material of the costume with precome._

_“Oohhmygod, Yuuri, c-can you go deeper, zolotse? P-please?” Viktor asked, receiving nothing but a muted moan that vibrated into the root of his dick and into his core as Yuuri sank down even deeper. The head of his cock pressed against the back of Yuuri’s throat and he swallowed, tightening around Viktor’s length in a way that made him see stars. “Shitshitshit, Yuuuuuri, close- gonna c-come!” Viktor warned with a choked-off moan as Yuuri’s red eyes flashed dangerously at him, his orgasm tearing through him and white bursting behind his eyes._

_Wait, red?_

Viktor blinked slowly at the pale ceiling of his bedroom, cast in the grey-blue of midnight. He groaned, another dream of Yuuri. And from the warm wetness centered around his crotch, an embarrassing dream. He threw the cotton sheet back, shrieking at what he uncovered in his bed, at what was presently sucking his dick. 

The dark silhouette of a man, but not… quite a _man_ , given that there were _wings!_ Leathery wings extended outward from between its shoulder blades, its lithe frame covered in tight cracked leather, twin horns curled out of long, messy ebony hair and away from its head, skin dark as shadow. In fact, Viktor could have easily convinced himself that it was, in fact, a shadow, a trick of the moonlight from his window...if it weren’t for the blood-red eyes that blinked owlishly up at him, as if this - _thing!_ \- was more surprised than he was that he was awake and staring at it, his cock still in its mouth! Its hands were wrapped around Viktor’s hips, straddling the length of his legs, effectively holding him down. Viktor switched on the lamp beside his bed, only to have it immediately short out, sparks flying from the outlet on the wall.

“Let’s just leave that off, shall we?” It spoke, Viktor’s spent cock falling from its mouth as it licked its lips. It laughed darkly as the Russian spluttered, its voice rough and gravelly, unnaturally deep, colored by a strange affect that crawled under Viktor’s skin. 

“Who are you? Wh-what are you?” Viktor stammered, trying in vain to shrink away from the creature’s grasp, finding with horror that its strength far outpaced his own, even the elite athlete that he was. 

“Well, that’s not really that important, now, is it? What _is_ important however, is the fact that you taste delicious and I’m hungry. Now, if you don’t mind, just go right back to sleep and let me just-” the creature waved a clawed hand over Viktor’s eyes and everything tunnelled, the otherworldly being’s voice distant in his ears and its silhouette fading from his vision as a strange warmth crept into his limbs.

“ _N-no…_ ” Viktor protested weakly, forcing his eyes open, pushing against the heavy blanket that had fallen over his chest and mind. It clung to his body, thick and heavy like lead, pulling him back into bed. He shook his head, groaning as stars burst behind his eyes.

“You’re stronger than I anticipated, Viktor Nikiforov…” the demon murmured softly as the spell relented. It sounded genuinely surprised. Viktor blinked at the use of his full name, staring at the crimson irises as catlike pupils narrowed and widened at him like the lens of a camera focusing.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, his heart still thudding in his chest. He still felt drunk, everything seemed heavy and slow around him.

“What do you _mean_ , how do I know your name?” The demon snorted a laugh in disbelief. “Of course I know who you are. What kind of incubus would I be if I didn’t know the name of my target?” It laughed again, as if the question Viktor had asked was so ludicrous it didn’t even warrant a real answer.

“I-incubus?!” Viktor gasped, earning another chuckle and a roll of the demon’s eyes. He suddenly wished he hadn’t scoffed at all those invitations to join Yakov and Lillia at church. 

“Yes, an _incubus_.” It mocked Viktor’s shock with a dramatic press of fingertips to its chest. “What do you think I was doing down there? Just sucking your dick for fun?” It snapped, clearly growing annoyed. Fangs flashed at him in the dark, red eyes seemed to bore into his very bones. “I consume energy in the form of pleasure, _more specifically, sexual_ pleasure,” the demon murmured the second bit slowly with a flick of his tongue over his fangs, “and in exchange, you get one hell of a night. Easy enough, right, pretty boy?” 

Viktor shuddered at the memory of that mouth around him, finding himself completely dumbstruck. The demon cocked its head, waiting for a response, but when none came, it narrowed those blood-red eyes again, burning a hole in the center of Viktor’s forehead with a small, knowing sound. Without warning, the demon morphed, a rippling effect as its skin faded from black to a fair, peach tone, its long, ebony hair shortening and curling, brightening to a familiar shade of blonde. Red eyes blinked olive green. 

“I’ve found it easier when dealing with _awake_ humans to take the form of their previous lover-” the demon began, quickly interrupted by a flustered smattering of Russian as Viktor blushed and covered his eyes. _Had it really been that long?_ He hadn’t fooled around with Chris since the Olympics… and no one had graced his bed since then. The demon cocked his head to one side, his lips curled down in a droopy pout, his red eyes staring at Victor's lap as it dropped the ‘Chris’ visage (much to Viktor’s relief!), wings unfurling loosely to cast a long shadow over the bed.

"Odd. That usually works, but it seems like junior's having some trouble standing to attention." It huffed, a long clawed finger poking at the soft flesh of Viktor’s flaccid cock.

Victor shuffled away from the touch, gripping the sheet to his chest like a shield. "Chris- Chris isn't my lover! He's just a friend!" He willed his heart to slow down. _What the hell was in that drink?! I'm hallucinating!_ Viktor asked himself, trying to remember what that bottle had actually read.

"Oh no you're not." The demon giggled, crawling up the bed like a leather-clad panther, licking his lips with a bright pink tongue. Viktor didn't process the words fast enough to realize it had read this mind again. Those eyes focused again at the spot between his eyebrows, smacking his own forehead with his palm with a laugh. “Of course. It’s obvious now…” the being crooned, crawling over Viktor slowly and planting itself in his lap.

“What is?” Viktor scoffed, a bit unnerved at the creature’s closeness and ease at which it read his mind. A throaty laugh sent a shiver down Victor's spine. 

"You’d prefer me... to look like this." Before his eyes, the demon's red eyes shifted to a chocolatey brown, the black, leathery appearance of its skin softening to a familiar shade of vanilla, the touch of which he had been chasing in fleeting memories of that night at the banquet. The taste of which, he had never dared to imagine. Sharp, jutting cheekbones curved to rounded cheeks and soft features, pink lips plush and… Viktor hesitated to say _kissable_ , though a pair of white fangs were still visible when he opened that wet mouth. A familiar black and blue jacket wrapped around his body, a pair of athletic pants stretched taut around wide hips and over the obvious press of an erection. A mop of messy black hair fell just over the rims of blue glasses.

 _Yuuri._

No, not Yuuri. _‘This isn't Yuuri!’_ But gods, did Viktor want it to be. Gods above did Viktor wish it was Yuuri before his eyes, in his bed, only lit by the moonlight on the snow through the window. The air in Viktor's lungs was immediately pressed out as Yuuri-not-Yuuri plucked the glasses from his nose and pushed back the mess of raven hair out of his eyes. It looked just like Yuuri, fresh out of the locker room that day in Sochi. The image that had burned itself into Viktor's mind and gave him no respite, the one he had touched himself to countless times since that night.

“No, _nononononono_ , not him, please, I-” the demon effectively silenced him with a hand over his mouth, and Viktor bit back the urge to taste that vanilla-coloured flesh as it pressed over his lips.

"Aw, but Viktor… I've seen the way you look at that Japanese skater... I've seen into your mind, you know. I know who you were thinking of as you came just now, who was choking on your cock in that dream I gave you. I know just how badly you want to hear him moan your name, hear him beg for you to touch him..." The demon replied, slowly rolling its hips over Viktor's lap, the soft flesh of his inner thighs rubbing against the fabric stretched tight over that pert ass. Viktor's breath stuttered and the incubus chuckled bright and soft, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and flushing a bright red that made Viktor want to moan and coo at the same time. The fake Yuuri brought his hands together in front of him, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"V-vi-hiiiktorrrruu, t-touch me? Please?" The demon whispered, its voice wavering as it pitched into the sweet, dulcet tones he had heard that night at the banquet, Yuuri's voice. The gentle plea shot right to Viktor's cock, the organ throbbing as he reached up to cup Yuuri's cheek. He leaned into the contact, humming softly as Viktor's hand met the heated flesh there. _So real..._ Viktor moaned as a small whine fell from Yuuri's lips, another request to be touched, to be loved. To be _fucked_. Viktor felt his body reacting, his cock twitching to life as the one man he'd been thinking about straddled his lap.

 _"Yuuri…”_ Viktor moaned, enchanted by his soft laugh and airy sigh. His fingers ran up into that tangle of midnight-black as Yuuri's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open in a wordless cry, revealing the pointed fangs that were definitely _not_ Yuuri's. Viktor yanked his hand away as if he had been burned. “No, wait a minute! You're not Yuuri! G-get off me!” He snapped himself from the spell, forcing himself to sit up and shove that… that _thing_ from his lap. But before Viktor could move even an inch, it had pressed him back into the sheets, long, sharpened fingernails digging into the muscle of his pecs. A wolfish grin stretched those soft lips in an unnatural way, pearly fangs poking out over the swell of his lower lip. 

“Oh, but you don't _really_ want that, do you?” not-Yuuri crooned as he ground his hips down into Viktor's pelvis, the friction of the material heavenly against his semi-hard cock. “You want this, you can’t hide it from me.” Viktor coughed against a moan as he pressed against the demon's shoulders desperately, trying to force it away. He couldn't do this, it wasn't right. 

“No, not like this! I can't-” Viktor protested, screwing his eyes shut against the heavy gaze of the being grinding against him in his lap.

“But I could be him, just for tonight… wouldn't you like that, Viktoruuuuu? Wouldn't you like Yuuri in your bed for one night?" Yuuri leaned down, the chill of his jacket's zipper pressed against the heated flesh of Viktor's chest as he captured his lips in a rough kiss, all clashing tongue and teeth. "Please, Viktoruuuuu~" Yuuri's sweet voice whispered in the dark when they parted, the flash in his amber eyes so real as he wrapped a hand around Viktor's chin, the soft touch of Yuuri's skin against his nearly too much. "Pleeaaaase be my first! Teach me all you know..." Yuuri whispered into the shell of Viktor's ear with a moan and a roll of his clothed erection against Viktor's. The pull of the demon nearly lured him in again, and Viktor struggled to fight it off, a bit weaker this time.

"No, I, this is wrong, I-" the demon cut him off with another heated kiss, stealing the breath from his lungs and searing the taste of his flesh into Viktor's mouth. " _mmff_ \- st-stop, Yuuri didn't want me, h-he didn't call me back!" The demon tutted as he leaned back, and with a snap of his fingers and he was naked, _Yuuri_ was naked, his cock flushed and weeping precome onto Viktor's stomach. It took the Russian's breath away, seeing every dip and curve of the Japanese skater's body illuminated in the cold moonlight streaming through the window. Soft, silvery stretch marks crawled away from his belly button like fireworks, striping his inner thighs like battle wounds. 

He was more beautiful than every fantasy Viktor's mind had conjured. How had he not known about the stretch marks? He balled his fists into the bedding to keep himself from touching, from tracing those pale scars with his fingertips.

"B-but Viktor... I'm here now..." Yuuri moaned softly, rolling his hips against Viktor's rapidly hardening dick, their arousals rubbing against each other in a slick glide that Viktor had imagined so many times. "I want you, Viktor, pleeease?" 

_This isn't real._ Viktor told himself, swallowing thickly at the sight of Yuuri, his body naked and flushed for him, his stiff length pressed against his own, literally begging for his touch. _It's all just a dream anyway._ He decided, _probably too much to drink - again._ Slowly, Viktor unfurled his fists from the sheets and wrapped his hands around not-Yuuri's hips. The flesh felt warm in his touch, the shape of them perfectly sized for his hands, his thumbs rubbed over the jut of his pelvis, a shuddering breath falling from not-Yuuri's mouth as he splayed his fingers over the curve there.

"Damnit, I- Yuuri, I'm so sorry..." Viktor apologized to the real Yuuri under his breath, the Yuuri he had been pining for, his loneliness winning over his common sense. A switch flipped in his mind, and something not unlike a growl resonated in Viktor's chest as he met those chocolate eyes again, a fire blazing behind his own ceruleans.

"Wow!" Not-Yuuri smirked as Viktor flipped him onto his stomach, gripping his hips as he positioned himself between those long legs, pressing the flushed head of his cock against the demon's creamy-coloured ass. "So dominant! So much energy! I knew you were the right choice for _-mmmph!_ " Not-Yuuri was silenced as Viktor pushed his face into the pillow, forcing his back to arch in a feline display of flesh. Yuuri moaned as Viktor’s fingers found his hole already wet and ready for him, winking and fluttering a lewd ‘hello’.

"Shut up!" Viktor hissed as he broke through the ring of tight muscle, moaning at the heat that swallowed his cock as he sank in to the hilt. "S-stop talking. I- I just need Yuuri… Yuuri, oh god _yessss!_ "

"V-viiiktooorru, righhthere! Ye-heeessssss!" the demon screamed, muffled by the pillow. Viktor pistoned into the soft, heated flesh below him, his chest heaving as he tried to memorize the sight of it, the curve of Yuuri's spine, of his hips thrust upward into the air, of the sweat beading at the base of his neck. This was the sight he had been hoping for that night, a screaming, moaning mess in his hotel room, utterly falling apart at his touch… the sight he had imagined on so many lonely nights.

"Yuuri, Yuuuuuri, ohhfuckyes, so good- _shit!_ " Viktor slid his hands under Yuuri's chest and pulled at the pebbled flesh of his nipples, throwing his head back at the sound of Yuuri's pleasured shrieking, his ragged gasps between the muffled cries.

"Yesyesyesyes, that's it Viktoruuu! There, _thererightthere!_ " Yuuri’s screams filled Viktor's head as he thrusted harder, deeper, faster, chasing his orgasm like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. Maybe he needed the sensation of Yuuri clenching around him in order to live now, the sound of that sweet Japanese man panting his name more vital than oxygen, the taste of salt on his creamy skin where he dragged it between his teeth now the source of sustenance his body craved. 

"Viktoruuu, fill me! Fill my hole, want your c-come inside me!" Yuuri screamed, his spine bowing and arching as it seemed his edge drew near.

"Ohhhh Yuuri 'mclose, so close, I'm-I'm gonna come. Oh god, _YuuUUUURRRRIIIIII!_ " Viktor's hips stuttered as his flesh slapped against not-Yuuri's thighs, a deep, guttural growl tearing from his throat as he thundered over the edge, his body emptying of every drop. 

A strange weariness sank into his chest then, his breaths oddly shallow and labored. He collapsed over Yuuri’s frame, his muscles suddenly quavering with strain as he pressed a kiss between Yuuri's shoulder blades. His lips found the cool touch of leather when he had expected heat and salt, the touch not of flesh, but of a wing.

"Viktor, that was-" Yuuri's voice was wrong, it was too deep, too gravelly. "That was incredible! I hope you don't mind if I... have another, do you?" Viktor's eyelids felt heavy as he blinked slowly, the image of Yuuri with glowing red eyes, horns and spindly, leathery wings swimming before his eyes. Suddenly he was flung onto his back, the demon sitting on his stomach, gently brushing the silver fringe away from his eyes, and off his sweat-slicked forehead. The Russian softened with the gentle touch, his post-orgasmic mind easily substituting the creature touching him with Yuuri. Easily replacing the moment for a golden afternoon, of that light, chiming laugh ringing through the room and spilling into his mouth as they kissed. Slowly, achingly slowly, those spoken words crept their way into Viktor’s mind. _Another._

"Wh-what? Ano-" Viktor's voice was swallowed up again as the demon clamped his mouth over his, his tongue hot and slippery as it rolled against his. The smaller man ( _‘It isn’t a man! Stop pretending it’s- oh god!’_ ) sucked on his tongue with a lewd moan and Viktor felt his cock suddenly spring back to life, thick and already dripping. His bleary mind could hardly focus on it as he looked down at himself in shock. "How...?" 

"Demon saliva has an aphrodisiac effect on mortals." The demon winked, cocking his head to one side. Another snap of its fingers and the wings and horns had vanished again, and Viktor was staring up at Yuuri. Raven hair gelled back from his face, eyes glowing like tiny stars as he hovered over his cock, hips jutting out in such a way that would surely feature in Viktor's future wet dreams. "Viktoruuu, want more- want your huge cock in me again..." Viktor felt his eyes roll into his head as the smaller man slid down onto him, bottoming out with a long, throaty groan of his name.

"God, Y-yuuuuuuuri!" Viktor heard himself moan, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't Yuuri, that this was just the most realistic dream he'd had in his life, as soft, hot flesh clenched around his cock so perfectly tight. 

"Viiiiiiktorrrr, do you see this? Look, _ohmygod_ , look, it's.. it's y-you... in me..." Yuuri moaned, and Viktor registered a strange pressure against the head of his dick. He slowly opened his eyes to see what Yuuri meant, his small hands gently tracing the silhouetted shape of his hardness pressing behind the taut flesh of his belly. Viktor groaned as he kept his eyes trained on the sight of himself inside Yuuri, a new, frenzied surge of pleasure drawing his hands to those wide hips again, thrusting up into the wet heat of his body. 

"Ye-heessssss, Viktorrr, fuckmefuckme! Need it, need you, _pleasepleasepleeasseeeeee!_ " Yuuri screamed as Viktor watched with rapt attention as the bulge of his cock punched in and out of his body.

Again and again he pounded into that tight, slick hole and lost himself to the fantasy, delirious with lust and drunk on desire. _'Yes, this is what it would be like,'_ he thought as he watched thick ribbons of come paint Yuuri's stomach as he screamed his name, _'this is how I'd want it to be,'_ he told himself as he drove his cock into Yuuri's hole as he held him in his lap, swirling his tongue over a pert nipple, _'this is the man who held me in his arms on the dancefloor,'_ tears pricked at his eyes as he threw Yuuri's thighs over his shoulders, thrusting slow and hard, making the Japanese skater arch his back and scream, _'this is my lover, my Yuuri'_ tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he pressed his lips to Yuuri's, catching both of their screams as they climaxed together for the who-knows-how-manyth time.

Yuuri collapsed onto Viktor's pillow with a contented sigh, his cheeks and throat flushed pink, dark hair stuck to his forehead with a glistening sheen of sweat. 

"Wow, Viktor… that was incredible..." he laughed with a tired cough. "I didn't think you'd last this long." The words felt like lead in the Russian's head, swimming in his ears as if he was under water. 

"You underestimated me." Viktor replied as he fell forward into the bed beside him, still trying to parse the reality of the moment from the dream of it. “And you said that already.”

"You should probably call him, Viktor." The demon said after a moment, stretching its arms up over its head and a soft _whoosh_ as the wings reappeared, the curl of iridescent ebony horns peeking through rapidly lengthening raven hair as it dropped the Yuuri mask it had been wearing.

"I don't have his number. He didn't give it to me." Viktor replied, his voice rough from overuse.

"Find it. You're Viktor _fucking_ Nikiforov. Or go find _him_ if you can't call him." The demon scoffed as it blinked the chocolate of his eyes back to red, tugging waist-length hair into a sloppy plait. “After all, what good is your celebrity if you don't abuse it?” the demon chuckled darkly as its voice morphed back into the low gravel that had greeted Viktor earlier that night. 

"How do you know he even wants me to find him?" Viktor asked, sleep and exhaustion clinging to his limbs. “He would have called if he really wanted me to…”

"Trust me. I just know." It interrupted, the vanilla color of Yuuri's flesh rippled back to the dark ebony tinted red, and the transformation was complete. No vestige of Yuuri remained, only a creature Viktor would have feared in any other context but this one, one where he had just gone innumerable rounds with an incubus disguised as the beautiful Japanese man that had set his heart on fire. The demon made to stand and a shimmering aura enveloped him, Viktor grabbed it by the wrists. Like hell would that creature get away without explaining _that_.

 _"TELL ME HOW YOU KNOW!"_ Viktor cried, clutching at its wrists with every iota of his strength he had left, which was embarrassingly little.

“That's against the rules, lover boy!" the demon huffed, snatching its limbs out of the Russian's grip. "But," it continued with a sly wink, "seeing as you've given me enough energy to last a century, and the best fucking orgasm I've had in millennia, I'll let it slide this time."

With a wave of a leather-clad arm, a swirling mass of light suddenly appeared above his bed. Viktor gawped slack-jawed as the centre of the light began to shift and a picture began to form, slowly coming into focus like an old film on a projector. He realised that he was looking at someone's bedroom. 

It was nighttime, the moon at the window throwing long, blue shadows on the walls. Walls, he realised with a gasp, that were adorned with posters of himself. Photos from every major competition he had ever been in covered the walls. It was almost like… a shrine. He glanced over at the demon, who urged him to keep looking with a nudge of his chin. He turned back, this time his eyes landing on the bed. The occupant seemed restless, the sheet hiding him from view pitching and twisting as- _"Viktoruuuu...."_ a soft, melodic voice mewls in the dark. So quiet, he thought he had imagined it.

 _"Vik-Viktoruuuu, please, please - hah, hah, Viiiiiktor… aaaaaaHAAAAAHHHHH!"_ the sounds sent electricity through his veins as the sheet was suddenly thrown back, the owner of that sweet voice coming into view. A mass of mussed-up raven hair, glittering amber eyes, flushed cheeks and panting lips. Viktor's hand flew to the image and it vanished with a loud _POP_. But it remained behind his eyes, tattooed on his brain. That was Yuuri, the real Yuuri! Katsuki Yuuri was thinking about him, calling his name as he…

"So, Viktor Nikiforov, Living Legend and, might I add, Sex God Incarnate," the demon smirked at the dumbstruck mortal, chuckling at how easily men were swayed by their hearts (and their dicks), "... what's it going to be? Another night with me… or an eternity with the real deal?" The voice echoed in Viktor's head as he turned to say thank you to a goddamn demon of all things, only to find an empty bed. 

Viktor had to blink a few times to be sure it was real. That the sticky fluid on his chest and stomach was real, that the ache in his thighs and lower back was real, that all of it had truly happened. He was still half-convinced it had all been a dream. He gently swung his sore legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He hated the way come dried on his skin, it truly was a nightmare for his skincare routine. 

When he reached his ensuite and flipped on the vanity lights, it surprised him to find that there was no evidence of his night of passion. No marks against his neck, throat and shoulders where the demon had left a smattering of painful lovebites, no scratches running the length of his back, where he was sure it had drawn blood with those pointed nails. He shrugged and quickly showered off the fluid evidence, resettling into bed with fresh linens in place, the come-soiled sheets rumpled on the floor for the next morning. 

His mind grew restless as the image of Yuuri remained in his thoughts, of the sounds he had made, the cries that still echoed in his ears. He reached for his phone, to scroll through those pictures and videos again, having collected every single one from the people who had been there that night. His fingers touched something that was certainly not his phone resting on the nightstand. He sat up slowly, realizing it was a simple white card with crisp lettering. 

Did that thing leave a _business card?!_ Viktor laughed for a moment, adjusting his eyes to read in the darkness.

_Find him in Hasetsu. And don't forget this time._

It said simply, in clear Cyrillic. The memory came rushing back, of what Yuuri had said after he had begun grinding against him while piss-drunk. His family ran an inn. He flipped the card over to find more writing.

_And if you're ever bored, I'll see you in your dreams again. Just think… all that fun and no bruises to blot that beautiful skin ;)_

It hadn't left him a business card. It had left him a calling card! With a goddamn winky face. He rolled his eyes and laughed again at the absurdity of it. He flipped the card over again, slowly reading the Japanese name. This was where Yuuri was waiting for him, according to that demon. In Hasetsu. Yuuri, who apparently spent his nights touching himself and moaning his name. Yuuri. 

_‘The real Yuuri wants me. And the way he said my name! It was so...was so…’_ With a bolt of inspiration he yanked his phone off the charger on his bedside table and tapped furiously, searching through his playlist. Where was it?! He knew he had been listening to it the day before- “That’s it!” he cheered as the low chords of a guitar pealed out from the speakers. He hugged his phone to his chest as the song filled his room along with the blurring memories of his night with a sex demon and the vision of his beloved Yuuri calling his name, the sensations melting together into a wonderful, stimulating notion. A crazy, spontaneous notion.

“Of course!” he shrieked out loud to no one and made a beeline for his spare room and flicked on a light switch. He practically climbed over the mountain of cardboard boxes and piles of unopened fan mail (maybe he should hire a housekeeper… another thought for another day!) before finding the one he was looking for. Of course it had to be at the bottom of the pile! Tearing the packing tape, he cheered with glee as he found it. 

Black mesh, faux crystals… it seemed so much smaller than the last time he had looked at it. Then again, it had been several years. It would never fit him again. But it just might fit…

He made a phone call. He didn’t care how much it cost. It had to be today. Then he collapsed back on the bed and finally fell into a blissful sleep.

He left for Japan the same day. After he slept past noon.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Team #MutualDistraction is ringing in 2019 the best way we know. Porn.
> 
> This fic was SO much fun to write. Who's to say that the Eros routine wasn't inspired by a sex demon? We hope you enjoyed this as much as we enjoyed writing it! Leave us a little red heart, say hi in the comments! We try to reply to everyone! Check out our other work, we promise you won't be disappointed!
> 
>  
> 
> _Happy 2019, everyone! Laura here, in the italics. As always, it was an immense pleasure to write this cheeky bit of smut with IA. Hope this is the perfect way to start the countdown to **ICE ADOLESCENCE AAAAAHHHHH!!!**_
> 
>  
> 
> <3 Lauriana25 and IA <3


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